I woke up to Affliction

Affliction.

It was written on the pillow case.

Last night on the hotel bed, in the neatly arranged array of pillows the housekeeper had crafted after she turned down the linens, there was one black pillowcase. It was soft and felt good under my head. I noticed it had writing on it, but didn’t bother reading it. I was exhausted after another long day of covering the SXSW event in Austin.

This morning, after I got up (too early) and started another long day, I noticed the skulls.

They were printed on the pillowcase, along with the word “Affliction.”

Then I noticed the words along the side of it. It was an Affliction T-shirt, re-tailored and softened to be a pillowcase.

I’m glad I didn’t notice the skulls until this morning. My dreams are weird enough.

And I’ll probably bring the pillowcase home (they say I can’t keep the pillow), even though it’s very unlikely I’ll attend the parties the clothier is hosting at SXSW this week.

Turns out schwag isn’t always in a bag.

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